


I Think It’s Stuck

by PinkGluestick



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Adult Language, Bathroom Sex, Hank screws him stupid, Humiliation, Kinks, Kinks galore, M/M, Squirting, Stuffing, Sweet Talk, Trans Character, Trans Connor, Trans!Connor, connor has a sweet little hole, connor is a frisky baby, cursing, hank has a beer can dicc, i could be lying to myself, i think, not sure which ones though, sex toy, shy connor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 13:14:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18895351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkGluestick/pseuds/PinkGluestick
Summary: Connor gets a little too impatient, and Hank is nice enough to help with that. Cue sticking things where they shouldn’t stick.—————————I don’t even know how to tag this properly to warn you all, but copious amounts of smut. No plot. Smut smut smut- the messy kind.Just Connor getting stuffed up and creaming.******BE CAREFUL VIEWING******





	I Think It’s Stuck

**Author's Note:**

> Possibly worse than the dirty talk fic
> 
> Good luck

“Hank?”

“Mm.”

“...Hank?”

“Ugh-huh?”

“Can you do me a favor?”

“Mm.”

“Can you..maybe just...”

The sound of a very nervous android swallowing filled the quiet.

“‘S fuckin’ late, Connor.”

“I have...a situation. It’s an emergency.”

Keeping a conversation meant waking up. At least enough for Hank to form something coherent. He didn’t know what time it was, likely well into early morning, but he knew when it was useless to try for more sleep. Connor was hovering at the foot of his bed with something rattling around that tin can of his. 

He scrubbed at his eyes and turned over. After that weird fight they’d had about a day ago, Hank had been trying earnestly to be nicer. It was complicated, and while Connor was no sensitive android, he came with his limits. Hank struggled to keep the sleep from his voice as it would always come off as irritated in its gruffness.

*sigh*  
“What’s the situation?”

He couldn’t open his eyes yet, even though the room was draped in darkness, and the only light was coming from the bedroom door. He’d hold on to whatever peace he could get right now. 

The following silence was concerning. Enough so he finally cracked an eye open to see why Connor had suddenly become so deathly quiet. 

He was staring at Hank, fingers clasped together and holding close to his chest. The ring of red at his temple stood out more a little ominously in the dark room. 

“You got my attention, now. Spit it out.”

Hank regretted that before he’d even finished saying it. He was already breaking his resolve to be nicer, and it was only day one. He sure new how to keep things stagnant didn’t he? He could thank his sparkling personality for that.

Connor started rubbing his hands together. As his eyes began to adjust, Hank could see a face Connor hadn’t worn but once in all their time together. It was when he’d questioned him about his first deviant, Daniel.

 

Connor looked positively grim.

 

“I got something stuck.” He muttered so softly, Hank had to make sure he’d heard the right thing.

Once he did, silence. A block of ice settled in Hank’s gut. 

Fuck if this wasn’t probably going to be as bad as it sounded.

“Uhh...what did you get stuck?”

Connor’s light flashed dangerously, and Hank half expected the android to shut down.

“Where is it stuck?” He asked instead to try and divert the question. After all, what mattered was the remedy, not the details.

Connor sucked his lower lip in between his teeth. The artificial skin pulling and would likely split soon.

Well now Hank was *really* fucking worried. 

Ok...he could be an adult here. Connor needed him and they were both adults. He could handle this.

“Would it be easier to show me?....in the bathroom?...”

Connor nodded.

Even though he’d guessed right, having his suspicions confirmed was some whole new level of horrifying. 

He pulled the covers off and swung his legs over to the side, taking a moment to clear his head. He turned back to Connor and ordered him to go wait in the bathroom. The android scattered to comply, and Hank was left alone with his pounding heart.

All the whiskey in the world couldn’t prepare him for this, and if Connor hadn’t already seen him shit faced, half naked, covered in human fluids at a crime scene, or the time he’d cried ‘til his eyes nearly bled at Cole’s headstone, he wouldn’t even consider this. They’d been through way too much humanity in as little as 6 insane months for Hank to leave him like this.

But fuck if he didn’t want to be the coward and hide. 

He had a feeling he was about to see more of Connor than any compromising position either one had been in before. His gut instinct had never failed him, and there was only so many things and places Connor could get something ‘stuck’. Deep, calming breaths. Hank could do this- for his partner.

When he made it to the bathroom, Connor was standing awkwardly with his arms wrapped around himself and hunching over the sink. Like he was cold despite his perfect temperature regulator.

Hank licked his lower lip, eyes settling on anything but the android in front of him.

“So...can you show me now?”

Connor grimaced, searching for the magic hole in the floor that would swallow him up. There was nothing to escape to, sadly.

He didn’t want to prolong the ordeal and knew he’d do better to take action than continue with words. He didn’t trust his voicebox, anyway.

He shifted towards Hank, forcing himself to look brave with eye contact, and nodded. He was eager to keep Hank’s attention off of the display of his delicate body language. Connor actually prided himself on his rather cocky attitude. It wasn’t overbearing, nor did it define him, but it’s subtlety was the utter bane of Hank’s existence, and the center of Connor’s delight. He was very proud to be such a ‘little shit’ as Hank liked to put it, whenever it was possible. 

THIS, however....this was not good for his image and now fragile ego.

He turned his back to the sink, face shielded, as he found the courage to push forward. He shimmied his hips back onto the counter. 

This had Hank’s full attention, brows furrowing, but he didn’t question it. Yet.

Once he was fully seated, he reached down to fumble with his pajama bottoms while Hank awkwardly turned away. He resisted the urge to clear his throat when Connor’s bottoms being pulled down to his knees came into view. There was still the somewhat barrier of his boxers between them, though Hank knew this was so far the most intimate mile stone they had ever hit. Yes, even worse than his soppy meltdown at the graveyard.

Once those boxers came off, all modesty was gone. Even more, every line in their relationship, unspoken or other, would be crossed. 

Hank steeled himself when Connor slipped his fingers into the waist band of his shorts, hands visibly trembling if Hank possessed half the super android vision Connor did. He was thankful he didn’t.

Hank was still confused how he was supposed to reach his ass from this angle, being that it was on the sink- Oh.

...OH.

Fuck.

He sucked in a breath, which Connor undoubtedly heard, and wished he had the power to control his heartbeat like his partner. Fortunately, kind of, Connor couldn’t bare to look in his direction, and therefore wouldn’t scan him. He’d rather disassemble his voice box for a whole month than look Hank in the eye right now. 

Why didn’t he just prepare himself first?

“Oh, uh...ok. This isn’t....”

What? 

This isn’t so bad?

It definitely was. 

Connor had a good sized dildo wedged to the hilt up his cunt. Which Hank had VERY MUCH not expected. 

There was a rush of heat pooling in his face and gut at the sight of smooth, creamy legs spread open, and a pink, gaping pussy prominently set on display. 

Something primal stirred inside him, the vision alone bringing forth the most basic of urges and Hank nearly stared an overly obvious second too long.

He thought about his own cock, thick and full, and how it was meant in the most basic human sense to fill the hole in front of him. To plug Connor up where he needed plugging most. Legs spread, inviting and pliant, in an offer to Hank’s dick. Promising to provide a warm, wet place for him to fit his cock.

“I got impatient....” Connor admitted sheepishly, smacking Hank by the back of his head back into reality. Connor’s purple pullover fell below his shoulder as he balled in on himself. 

This was about the worse feeling in the world to the point he’d rather relive his time in Amanda’s garden as opposed to this. 

“Impatient, huh?” Hank murmured in an attempt to keep things light. 

Truthfully, he had no control of his mouth right now, having some kind of out of body experience as he just observed the scene from outside him. This was the greatest influx of emotions he’d ever experienced, and it had somehow pushed his mind from its shell. Thankfully he could run on auto pilot, did so for many years after Cole, and let his subconscious do the talking while he recovered. That’s not to say that he was really struggling to keep some semblance of decency in his disgusting, old brain. 

Thinking about Connor’s, um, parts, was such an incredibly huge breach of his trust. He could hardly believe he’d allowed himself to think in such a way when he finally came to. However brief.

“So what do I do?” Connor murmured pitifully. This was obviously affecting him more than it was Hank.

“Ughh....well. Does it hurt to pull on it?”

“It’s not comfortable, but.... the bigger issue is how far I...”

Connor swallowed, giving Hank a chance to realize there was a rich dab of blush was staining his cheeks.

 

“How far I...pushed it ‘up’ before it got stuck.”

Hank’s throat went dry. 

How big was this thing exactly?

JESUS, don’t ask that, don’t ask that, don’t ask that, don’t fucking ask that.

 

“How’d it get stuck?” That wasn’t great either. Details weren’t the issue here. Find the *remedy*, Hank!

 

“I...I got dry.”

 

Ok, lots of TMI here, but Hank asked and at least he knew how to fix the problem. And he was definitely, definitely not going to let the image of Connor wet enough to push a dildo up his pussy enter his brain.

 

In his pussy..... Holy fucking hell......

 

Connor felt like he needed to explain. Hank’s silence was too devastating not to.

“I- I-I heard a noise and I thought...”

He thought it was Hank, about to catch him trying out his new toy for the first time on top of one of his stolen shirts.

It was really a good thing that androids weren’t built to be bodily self-conscious, lest he be horrified to have his perfectly manufactured vagina on display for his first ever romantic crush to see. He was a bit concerned about the system malfunction warning popping up every time he caught Hank eyeing him, though. His inability to be embarrassed about his anatomy was really coming into question over this.

“I think your best bet is getting, uhh.” Hank’s face was turning as red as Connor’s boxers. He scratched the back of his neck, attempting to swallow enough times to get the words out.

“Um, wet. Again...”

Connor knew he was right, he could see the logic in it. Believe him, he’d tried VERY hard to do just that at the time, but the moment was gone, and he couldn’t help fearing the condition he was left in. There was a very large dildo jammed deep inside him, and he could barely sit down like this. If his legs weren’t spread open with all his weight on his ass, he couldn’t. How was he not supposed to panic like that?

 

It didn’t help he’d had to stop immediately to make sure it wasn’t Hank standing outside his door, hearing him moan at 2 am, but Sumo who’d come and lied down with a loud ‘thud’. The toy was too far gone at that point to come out.

“I can’t.” Connor felt like deactivating permanently for a moment.

“You can’t? Is it like a...malfunction of some kind?” 

Hank hated that word. For some reason, he always felt like he was trivializing Connor’s problems when he used it. It had taken a lot of explaining that having different anatomy and words that better suited Connor’s autonomy weren’t a bad thing. Not at all. It didn’t make him any less human to use robotic terms, which is exactly what Hank had been afraid of.

He was getting better about understanding with Connor’s help.

“No... everything is working properly. It’s more like a....*me* error.” If that wasn’t the worst thing he’d had to admit to in all his time as a deviant....

Perhaps he really shouldn’t rule out that being human meant being humiliated rather frequently. He was finding this to be the case after Hank had caught him singing to Ciara in the car on full blast a couple months ago.

But having to admit he couldn’t ‘get it on’ was an entirely different story that he was so appalled he was having to experience.

 

RA9, end him. What man wanted to admit sexual deficiency.

 

“Alright, ok, uhh, how about stretching yourself out a bit mor-“

 

“NO, No, just.....” Connor slapped a hand over his sapphire face.

Hank flushed at his own words. He reached a new level of stupid with that one, but he was desperate.

The android sighed heavily, attempting to finally make eye contact. It made Hank’s heart rate go up astronomically, but Connor wasn’t willing to chalk that up to anything less than second hand embarrassment. That and he knew human’s had a thing about nudity and private parts. 

Good thing androids really, really didn’t share that...

Really.

“Could you please just get some lubricant from the store? I’m sorry to ask this of you, but-“

“On it.” Hank was out of that room, reaching for his pants, keys, and coat faster than Connor could construct a response. Perhaps his lagging indicated a malfunction after all.

Hank was beyond glad to be the fuck out of there. Honestly, that was an understatement. 

He hadn’t known his breathing had been so limited until now with the cold wind slapping his face and a thin t-shirt beneath his coat doing nothing to keep him warm. That was good, though. He needed to clear his head. Take a minute to remember it was his PARTNER up on his sink with his legs spread. 

His partner and friend who was asking for his help, not for him to reduce into a one-cell organism with the single goal to fuck. Hank cringed at how very accurate that was right now.

He’d been thinking a little, no, *way* too hard, at that stretch of soft skin, holding the crowning dildo in place. Pink little clit peeking out about the bright blue plastic.

FUCK, FUCK, he was doing it again.

He got something water-based from the closest store still open at this hour and tried actively to ignore how he’d chosen his favorite brand. It wouldn’t benefit him in any, so it didn’t make much sense for him to have chosen it.

He was not going to let his perverted subconscious win this.

 

When he returned, he had to actually brace himself at the door; leaning against the freezing metal as snow accumulated around him, dusting his shoulders. 

It wasn’t the worst thing to see Connor like this. Hell, the worst thing would be seeing him shot, or any other injury he could sustain. At least this wasn’t hurting him, as humiliating as it was for them both. 

Connor still needed him, and after everything he strived to do for Hank on a routine basis, this was the extreme least he could do in return. 

That, and never mentioning this again.

He let himself in, embracing the warm house, and shucked his coat off. When he returned to the bathroom, Connor had pulled his legs up to his chest, sitting further back onto the counter so that his backside was cupped in the sink. He had every intention of scrubbing it in bleach afterwards and only allowed himself such because of the fact. Hank, however, was only interested in the cute way the swell of his ass filled it up.

He sighed to himself. He had literally just swore there’d be no more thoughts like that. 

He recalled the first time he’d had any. The first time was when Connor had asked innocently what auto asphyxiation was on a murder call. Hank explained and didn’t think anything of it, considering he’d seen at least 20 of those in his lifetime. But then Connor did this thing he’d never seen him do. He sucked his lower lip in between his teeth and blushed. Literally blushed in front of Hank and the corpse and GOD himself at the mere thought of what Hank was saying. 

He couldn’t help it. He’d only hugged Connor for the first time not a full month prior to that when the word ‘cute’ cane to mind. It was harmless at the time. Young, new thing blushing about sex talk, except it was so much worse than that for Hank’s side of things. He equally adored and cursed Connor’s new understanding into human emotions, prompting Hank to down several brandies at Jimmy’s later.

There was that time Connor winked at him, too, the cocky fucker, but he hadn’t allowed that to be chalked up to anything more. He wasn’t even sentient yet...uh...maybe. That thought alone had haunted him for many sleepless nights. 

He tried not to dwell, but the more he wondered about Connor’s point of deviancy, the harder it was to ignore his infatuation with the android’s antics. It wasn’t until recently anyway that he’d found he thought Connor was attractive. It took a bit, but that was the only conclusion his brain could draw from.

Embarrassing shit for someone in their early 50’s.

Connor took the lube, grateful Hank had gotten something he was familiar with himself, and went to work immediately. Happy to finally get the thick, aching toy out of him. It had finally started to hurt by the time Hank had made it to the store. That was partly to do with the deep, throbbing want the toy provided as it pushed at his walls in a way Connor could not fulfill. He attempted to get wet again while Hank was out, only to have images of the man’s steel blue eyes boaring into him.

That kind of image had gotten him off about a week ago when he had had a smaller dick up his ass; the thought of being preened at and watched. He had no idea how much of a fantasy that image needed to stay until now.

He applied a generous amount of the stuff over his palm, spreading it around with his other as his hands went to work between his thighs. He looked over at Hank who visibly paled, than turned red, and excused himself very quickly to give Connor some privacy.

Hank was so unbelievably glad he hadn’t tried tugging on the toy first. What hopelessly pulling on a toy up Connor’s cunt could do, he could only imagine. Nothing that would lessen his need to drink an entire case of whiskey now.

He subconsciously locked his bedroom door once he was safe inside. It wouldn’t put any distance between him and the occasional frustrated grunts coming from the room across the hall, but it was an empty peace of mind. 

He tried desperately not to think of Connor working on his pussy in there. Hands wet with his dripping slit wasting thick beads of slick along the bathroom floor. Wetness Hank could be licking away to avoid the mess.

Hank violently shuddered when the hand scrubbing his eyes fell at his side and brushed the sharp, straining dick between his legs. He was so far down the rabbit hole at this point, having thought about Connor’s gaping hole for the better half of an hour now. 

He didn’t think it would balance out any better if he indulged in a quick stroke, as it would still be *Connor’s* pussy he’d be getting off to. 

His depravity had not yet reached such a level and he was going to keep it that way. He may have come close after he’d heard Connor singing like a goddam crooner in his car that one time. Angelic voice, sweet mouth, perfectly forming those little ‘o’ shapes like another incredibly suggestive activity did. 

No. No touching. No touching.

That would be wrong. 

Connor had to be embarrassed enough to reverse his deviancy over this, and Hank was not going to make use of him in such a state for a few seconds of pleasure. He had fucking standards and a heart, dammit.

That’s not to say that Hank woke up with the most painful morning wood he’d ever had in his life only a few hours later.

It was bad enough he tried to lay around without his boxers on for a few minutes before he decided to go for a cold shower. He might even pamper himself with some heat afterwards to stave off the aching in his hips.

He fumbled around his dressers, highly unorganized, and found a clean towel. Thank everything Connor was such a laundry rat. If only his efforts extended to the state he left Hank’s car in. Pushing the persistent bulge to the side of his boxers, Hank headed for the bathroom.

It was quiet outside and still pretty early yet. Birds were waking up and greeting each other, the few that could stand the cold, and the couple stars lingering about were beginning to fade. He knew he wouldn’t be getting a lot of sleep last night...

 

He opened the bathroom door, expertly locking it with his free hand in one fluid motion when he stopped halfway through the door.

There was Connor, leaning over the lip of the sink with his boxers and pajamas perfectly framing the bottom curve his ass. His face was covered up in the crook of his arm with his pullover hiked up. He looked like he was in stasis, which Hank had come to learn Connor could do in any position, in any setting and wouldn’t be the least bit uncomfortable. Whatever, Hank wouldn’t question it (after the 6th time), but this was clearly somehow different.

Before Hank could call out to him, Connor pulled his face out from his arms, hair ruffled, and looking utterly defeated. There was a tiredness in his eyes the android hadn’t just garnered from some kind of sleep deprivation. This went deeper.

“Can you help me with another favor?” His voice sounded strained, eyes weary. Hank could see the night didn’t go so well after he’d left him.

Something like pity immediately flooded him. He hated how obviously troubled Connor was, humiliated and frustrated, and if Hank couldn’t personally relate to that on some next level shit, no one could. Even alcohol couldn’t keep some of his past horror stories from reemerging, and he’d found himself somewhere as self-deprecating as this was before- just under different context.

He put the towel on the door hanger, this time closing it to allow the illusion of privacy. No one else would see them like this inside Hank’s house, but Connor’s insecurities were more human-like and far relatable than he cared to admit.

“Sure, Con.” His pet name was probably not in the best use in this already intimate scenario, but Connor did seem to relax a bit. At least enough to scrub his face and pull away from the sink. 

Hank could see the very prominent blue bulge between his legs still which confirmed his thesis.

“No luck I take it?”

Connor sighed angrily, fists clenching.

“It’s too far up. I needed to access my component from the inside, but my hands,” he grit out, looking at them like they were culprits of a murder trial.  
“We’re too slippery to open myself up properly.”

Hank watched him shut his eyes and lean against the counter again.

“Then I fell asleep waiting...” He gestured uselessly with a shrug, head hanging.

Hank wished he’d put a towel in here for Connor sooner and cursed his dirty raccoon habits that kept him from putting and using any around the rest of the house. Connor literally had to wait until the human with dresser drawers and laundry cane out to grant him a golden ticket.

Stuck here for hours, like that ungodly uncomfortable toy.

“You’re just unlucky, huh?” Hank murmured softly.

Without another thought, so that logic wouldn’t catch up to him, he went forward with the towel and clasped it around Connor’s hand. 

At this point, the lube was pretty dried up, Connor’s current inaction due to his emotional defeat than the previously slippery state of his hands. Yet Hank had the urge to secure him; to reassure him before all else. Like telling a child the monsters under his bed were gone by shining the flashlight around. 

It was a gesture more than a usefulness, but Connor let him. 

Tired and nearly mad enough with the whole ordeal to ignore his growing shame, he held up his other hand for Hank to ‘dry’. He wiped it throughly, getting between Connor’s fingers and knuckles and then set it down over the counter.

Then he patted it with a hand.

Connor stared at it for a moment, light circling yellow, and then batted his eyes up at Hank. He did not like the implications here one bit. 

“Go on. Get the fuck up there.”

Connor swallowed.

Exactly what he was afraid of.

“There’s no reason to be shy about it, now.”  
There was still every reason, actually. Hank prayed he didn’t pop a boner if he spent another second looking at that soft, visual  
masterpiece between Connor’s legs. The fact was, he knew he had to be strong for Connor’s sake here.

“Let’s just get this over with.” And never, ever share a bathroom space again, lest memories of this come springing back.

Connor finally obliged him, shucking his pants and boxers back to below his knees. It would be too much for either of them to bear him stripping them off completely. How fragile the suppressed, sex-adled brain was.

Slowly, he spread his legs, heat blooming across every plane of his body, as he opened himself up in front of the worst audience imaginable.

Hank tried and succeeded not to stare, aided by the fact he’d gotten some experience on what he’d find after last night. It helped how adapting his personal nature was, too.

He grabbed the lube, noticing the amount Connor had used during his attempt, and spread it out on his fingertips. 

He put a thick glob on each one and reached his other hand out to grab the base of the toy. His fingers, slick with the substance, moved easily over it, covering it good, before moving up. They went all the way up until Connor’s pink folds being stretched to the brink were soon being fondled and coated generously in the stuff.

Connor jerked violently, legs almost closing as Hank drew his hand back.

“Shit! Shit, sorry- I should have told you I was about to touch.”

“No I-it’s fine. It’s fine.” The other’s uncontrollable squirming said otherwise, but Hank couldn’t risk them falling back to square one. 

He continued to pretend this wasn’t the most awkward thing in the world- touching his best friend’s privates.

He fucking hated that expression.

He uncapped the lube again and added more to each finger. Covering them noticeably further down this time.

Connor forced his pump to slow.

 

“I’m gonna touch you again.”

The other nodded, lashes fluttering.

Hank’s hand found the cusp of his folds that were stretched out around the bottom. Connor had to bite his lip and run his brain through thousands of boring articles out of an Oxford medical book he’d downloaded. It was that or do something really stupid.

Hank’s fingers gently prodded at the base of his hole, feeling and judging the incredible girth of the toy they strained against until he found somewhat of a give at each side of the it. Just a little higher up.

He made sure the other parts of him were coated in excess before Hank sprawled his fingers alarmingly easily over the entire toy and both sides of Connor’s hole. Making perfectly sure not to touch the magic button at the top with the abundant width of his hand.

“Connor...tell me if you need me to stop.” He said it with such sincerity, and Connor knew why. But the eye contact... That’s how he knew this was about to get way more serious than his cooling system was ready for, and Connor promptly swallowed down his pride before nodding.

With that, Hank gave his own little nod of encouragement, eyes tracing over him and landing back at his cunt. He steeled himself, tapping into the famous Anderson beast he’d been back in college years, and went to work.

He gave the toy a little push further in, then down, then in, then down, only a hair more. Connor was easily able to suppress any groaning at this point, considering how the device had become a thing of great discomfort.

Hank’s finger, coated to about the second digit, slipped in, and Connor’s vision went white.

His mouth fell open and he looked down between them, unable to see anything properly below the toy. But he knew. He knew what he was feeling.

That was Hank’s finger, no doubt.

Visions of having him inside of him was what had gotten him into this mess in the first place.

He ran his finger around the toy, rimming it with a deliberate slowness to keep Connor from any tearing and further harm. It didn’t work, though not in the way Hank might expect it to.

Connor’s body jerked forward, air becoming necessary to activate his cooling fans.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

“Getting this out.”

“H-how?” A moan slipped out to Connor’s absolute horror. Hank thankfully didn’t hear it over the brutally embarrassing sounds his pussy filled to the brim with extra fluids sloshing around was making.

“By getting you wet.” His finger rolled around the edges once more, then pushed the toy up with his palm. Slowly, it was coming loose.

“B-but-“

“I really don’t want to talk about this, Con....just try to relax, I think I’ve almost got it.”

Relax? Hank was fingering his bunny hole and he was supposed to *relax*???

His head tilted back as he stared at the ceiling, unseeing and chest heaving. He promptly shut his gaping mouth on a groan and bit his lip. 

Hank’s fingers worked him, opening him up more than he thought was possible. He pushed against the walls inside him, teasing the sensitive flesh outside with his knuckles. They brushed especially close to his other hole, running over his taint while the finger digging down inside went deeper. 

The toy budged, Connor squeezed his eyes shut in pain, and Hank was ready to shoot for step 2.

He grabbed the base of the toy with his thumb, pushing the toy down into it with the finger inside to try and get a better grip on the slick thing.

No luck, of course, as Connor finally let out that groan.

Before he could process it, hank swiped his thumb along Connor’s plump lips, gathering a good bit of lube from them to aid his journey, and pushed *in*.

The android froze, head snapping down to look at the image before him. He could hardly breathe at what he saw and his cooling fans began to stall out.

Hank’s thumb and forefinger were wedged beneath his folds, smashed against his inner walls, and cupping the thick plastic toy. They started to pull the toy down, slow and precise so as not to hurt the pussy’s owner.

It was at that time Connor’s pleasure receptors decided to seize up, entirely against his will, and pull the toy along with it in a strong, android-strength contraction. 

“Shit...Connor, you HAVE to loosen up. This isn’t going to work if you don’t.”

Connor swallowed, eyes wide. He couldn’t tear himself away from the image of Hank stuffing him up. It felt....

His cunny tightened again. The toy bobbing up and down. But this time stopping lower.

Suddenly a lightbulb went off in Hank’s head. 

“Con, do that again.”

“H-huh?” He couldn’t even remember his name. What was Hank asking of him?

“The tightening thing. We can use your contractions to get this thing out if I pull while you push.”

“I-I....”

He could pass out. Exhausted from a full night of struggling, several hours worth of excruciating embarrassment, and the burning desire to file every thing in Hank’s hands and voice away for dubious later use, while getting his parts touched was too much. It was way, *way* too much. At this point, he could say ‘touched’ was more akin to being ‘explicitly felt up’, and he was supposed to keep functioning after all that? He forcefully reminded himself this was for his benefit and was still much better than a random android engineer doing it.

That large paw clutched the toy with one hand and pulled Connor’s folds apart even further. They were flush with his lips now. If his eyes rolled back and his pump stopped working, Markus knew the drill about burning all his bear magazines. 

 

“Tighten up, I’ll pull, *slowly*. Don’t worry.”

Don’t worry?!

“I-i Can’t.”

“C’mon, I’ve almost got it.”

“Hank...”

“I know what to do, you just have to trust me.”

“How am I supposed to do that when your fingers are in there?!”

“YOU asked for my help-“

“No! I mean...how can I do...the other thing...”

“What other thing?”

Connor shut his eyes, willing the world around him to perish and himself with it. His face was reaching critical heat, a ringing had begun to fill his ears where the pulse of his regulator was hammering away, quite literally. It operated on a piston system that had him fearful it was going to come down too hard on the number of wires which surrounded it at any moment.

He couldn’t do this with Hank here, not like this. He needed....fuck.

He needed stimulation to do what Hank was asking of him. And he couldn’t, he just couldn’t.

“Connor, we’re so close. Is this any worse than the time we caught Sumo mating with the couch cushions?”

“PLEASE do not liken me to that.”

“You are so fuckin’ right, I am so sorry, Connor. Wow.... Fuckin’ WOW.”

Connor chewed at his lip, brows furrowing tight in the most desperate look Hank had ever seen on him. Desperate to be done with this, desperate to escape. This was some awkward teenage level of horny, right here, and Hank honestly couldn’t blame him for wanting to run away, if only mentally.

He didn’t want to see him like that, being kicked while he was already so far down. He was about to suggest they take a break and risk losing their place to try more lubricant instead, when the android breathed out a shaky breath.

A long defeated sigh that made Hank question if all the times his cocky little android had been such an unabashed smart ass was just a cover up. 

Then Connor timidly reached down between them, wetting his lips, and finding his prize with shaky hands.

His eyes were shut tight, brow pinched below his tousled bangs, as his fingers began to seek out the tiny pink button at the top of his cunny.

 

Hank froze, watching with rapt attention as his slender finger skimmed around, carefully stroking the swollen nub nestled flush against the dildo. It was a bit hard to reach this stretched out, but he found it easily enough to push the hood back and finger it with intent. It earned them a violent jerk of the toy, which Hank had forgotten to pull at the time.

 

Connor whined.

“Shit, sorry!” Hank scrambled to adjust his grip, ready for the next contraction.

It came shortly after when nimble fingers dipped around the synthetic pink skin to tease himself from the side. Another whine slipped forth.

Hank pulled when his muscles unclenched, and the toy sank lower. He was starting to get an idea of how large this toy was supposed to be.

He gave it a little twist to the side to help dislodge it and Connor’s legs answered with a jerk. Eyes screwing shut as he caved in on himself in a wave of shivers. He almost thought that he’d hurt him.

They needed a little more leverage than this, though neither wanted to think about it, considering the abundant amount of lines being crossed here. Another one was really unwelcomed right now.

But what needed doing, needed doing. Hank moved diligently while Connor was lost in another pleasurable shudder to pull one leg free from his bottoms, positioning his feet onto the counter. He really could go without his brain likening the position to that of a gynecologist appointment, but he was more preoccupied with Connor’s little jerks and twitches to get too caught up in that. At least he’d gotten them that leverage.

The contractions were becoming frequent now, pushing and pulling the toy with strong muscles Hank’s fingers were trapped in the midst of. It was such a heady feeling, those taut silicone parts actually moving and rolling like a real pussy did.

He reprimanded himself for using ‘real’, as if the writhing, now openly moaning android on his bathroom sink was anything but real. 

To be fair, though, this was something out of Hank’s wildest dreams. In fact, this pussy was something magical. This one was stronger than the ones any of his previous partner’s had. This one possessed relentless strength, impossibly pliable stretching. Plump lips softer than anything Hank had worked with before.

And now he knew why you never went back once you went android.

Connor’s head fell to the side, shocking Hank from his revere when the entirety of his palm started to move frantically against his clit with its man made callouses. He slid it back and forth in something out of a porno and Hank’s untapped fantasies.

“Hank!”

The older man’s jaw dropped. He watched the shivering form before him curl in on itself, face blue.

“I-I mean-....” Connor had the subconscious will enough to realize what he had said, but couldn’t finish that thought, wrapped tight in his own pleasure. 

He needed to try, though, before-

“How did this get stuck?” Hank murmured, voice careful.

“I...” he swallowed.

Hank’s eyes went glassy, watching the absolute show before him unravel into something deeper, something secret, while Connor continued to work himself.

The toy was slick to the point of precum running down Hank’s wrists, and he felt shameful he hadn’t noticed something like that sooner. However the toy was moving much easier.

To be honest, it wasn’t actually stuck anymore.

There was nothing more than a sparking of instinct that drove Hank in to touch him, but his gut had never been wrong before.

His hand gently moved Connor’s frantic rubbing aside. His thumb pushed over the swollen nub, a precious, pink button Hank’s thumb could cover whole, and continued the fight.

Connor’s immediate reaction- his head falling back against the mirror as a scream ripped through him- took Hank on some kind of power trip. 

Now was not the time to get cocky, but the primitive part of his brain couldn’t push down the excitement building at the thought of all the pleasure Connor was about to endure at his hand. The flood of testosterone was doing devious things to Hank’s brain.

 

The toy would be all but forgotten if Hank hadn’t needed something to keep that precious cunny filled for the time being. 

He reached down and took a hold of it, pulling it out without any resistance and pushing it back in.

Connor’s eyes flew open, seemingly remembering where he was as he scrambled around the counter and held to Hank’s arms with a death grip. 

He understood the wide eyes, his look of fear and horror. Hank knew what he was afraid of and possibly why this thing had gotten stuck, now.

“Shhh, I got you, baby.”

He stopped pushing the toy to allow him to adjust, focusing his efforts on petting his pretty, plumped up clit. 

Hank’s thumb rubbed him like he was an eager explorer, mapping out every new crevice and dip and swell of his button while leaving no path unmarked. It was like a switch turned on, a vital one, that left Connor short circuiting and pumping lube to his pussy at a disillusioning rate. He couldn’t control it, he couldn’t think straight about what Hank was doing to him. The amount of pleasure he was drowning him in.

His hips jerked, breath hitching, and Connor was able to lose himself in the pleasure again.

“~Ahh!~ Ahhhh!~”

His body shuttered under the swipe of Hank’s thumb. He started pumping the toy again when Connor whimpered out a pitiful,  
“~Hank~”.

His face burning and chest heaving. Hank hadn’t even realized at what point he’d fallen into a similar state. His own eyes lidded, breath erratic, as that ever persistent dick of his was standing hard at attention.

He had a pretty good idea now of what had happened on Connor’s end, now.

This, whatever they were currently doing, wasn’t ideal by any means, but Hank wasn’t getting any younger and his ever growing attraction for the other man wasn’t getting any more deniable.

This was news to him of course, that he could be attracted to Connor on this level. At the point they were inches from rubbing bits together, and Hank had his fingers stuffed up his pussy, Hank would like to revisit where the signs that everything would lead them here were supposed to be when they’d passed him.

He’d never believe this a month ago. Hell, he wouldn’t believe this as of last night.

 

“~Ohhh~ O, Oh GOD~ I’m so...”

 

Connor was too far gone to finish that thought. Hank stepped up to the challenge out of sheer dick energy that he wished his brain wouldn’t impose on his poor, shaken partner at this time.

“So wet?” His voice murmured in a few octaves lower than one cunny could handle. He rubbed the petal of nerves between Connor’s thighs so sweetly, so perfectly.

“Ah! Ah! I-I-“

“Yeah, you are, aren’t you? You’re soaking, baby. This toy could slide tight out, you’re so wet. See?”  
Hank pulled the toy out in one fluid motion, rendering Connor empty for the first time in hours, and achingly so. 

Hank went to line it up again while the shock to Connor’s systems was still there when he shoved a hand between it and his drooling hole.

“No! I want something else!”

That was enough to grab the cognitive part of Hank’s brain.

He shifted through the need to decimate Connor’s cunny in the next minute so he might ask the right questions.

“What do you want, sugar.”

Connor visibly shuddered. His legs slapped shut on impulse but Hank’s giant paws came out to wrestle them back open. This time pushing at his thighs until they were as far back enough to hit the mirror behind him. Bless android flexibility, and curse Hank’s leaking dick.

“Oh!~ I-I want...” Connor tried to shift some, pinned down helplessly by Hank’s unmoving grip.

“I want your fingers~” Connor cursed himself for not having the balls to ask for his throbbing cock instead. Every second he spent analyzing the mountain in Hank’s boxers provided him with the ample information he wished he’d had when he’d ordered the dildo. 

He was big enough to keep the fabric of the boxers from shielding him in any way, cock proudly jutting out as the perfect tool for Connor to impale himself on. The only thing that could prepare him for this part of Hank was the fact he’d had a toy half an inch slimmer stuffed up his cunt for a whole night.

But Connor hadn’t the courage to ask for that. He hadn’t even the courage to properly look at it beyond a glance in his peripheral.

Hank, watched his chest heave and his eyes wander, occasionally jerking away when they strayed too far. The way he blushed and looked from his leaking cock was indication enough, but he’d need some kind of confirmation out of Connor before he pursued it. Hank was willing to go the extra mile to give him that chance, though.

 

“Are you sure that’s what you want, Con?”

“I-I...” No. Yes, and no. Those fingers wouldn’t fill him the same way his cock would.

“You can say no.” Hank leaned in close until they were nearly nose to nose, tilting away to whisper in Connor’s ear.

His brain stopped working. Like a mental cog was being jammed up with a stick or something, and he could do little else but gape at the way his legs were being pinned back and Hank, object of his affection and sexual fantasies, was anchored between his naked thighs. Mouth close enough to kiss the shell of his ear.

“But, I think you’d only being saying that to spare our feelings. You don’t need to be afraid to tell me.” 

Tell him. Tell him. Just say it.

Hank’s hand rubbed the inside of Connor’s knee. Stroking it reassuringly in an attempt to keep their shuffling feelings from killing the heat.

It worked beautifully, as if he honestly had to worry about something like that, as Connor’s legs tried to open further. Though impossible, of course. His head turned away, baring Hank his throat.

Of course he wanted that, of course he wanted to say yes. But what if it fucked up everything. 

If helping him try to pull a toy out of his malfunctioning pussy got them here, Connor had to consider the likelihood that agreeing to sex would turn out relatively harmless, too. He wanted to ask if Hank would regret it later, if things would be too different between them to even share be his desk mate afterwards.

Unfortunately, his only thought centered around the spearing blue eyes burning holes into him as his mouth came inches from the skin of his throat. 

“I don’t want to make you, but I think you want this.”

“I do.” He confirmed. He was half mortified to find his voice had gone a bit staticky.

 

“I do.” He cleared his throat and tried again.

“But do you want it? I’m aware the male brain possesses quite a dose of hormones that keep moments like these from being relatively thought out.” 

Hank grinned, delighted to see he could still be annoying while so embarrassed. That was his Connor alright.

“You saying you don’t have something similar goin’ on up there?”

“....”

“I did pull a 7 inch dildo out of you.”

“That’s not what I’m saying. I don’t want you so caught up in the moment, Hank. What if you do something you regret?”

“I *regret* not hitting on you sooner. I won’t regret a sweet face and wet hole.”

It was crude, but Connor flushed, interest peaked and nerves a little less scattered.

“I regret that, too.” He murmured, hoping his teasing was anything as confident as Hank had come to expect of him. It wasn’t, and Hank was becoming infatuated with this shier side of him.

“Well, I’ll do it now. But you gotta tell me that you want it. I don’t want this to be forced.” Hank rubbed his knee a little rougher. A little more demanding. Connor’s thirum temperature was reaching dangerous levels.

“It-It wouldn’t be...”

“Good.”

He pulled back, staring at that impossibly inviting pussy waiting for Hank and his cock- almost painfully filled with blood.

“Then tell me that you want me.”

“I want you.” Connor all but moaned when Hank’s knuckles brushed the side of his cunny. Electronic nerve endings set alight. 

“You sure?” Hank’s other hand grabbed the middle of his cock and pushed it up and down along Connor’s slit. Finding the right spot.

“Oh~ I’m sure. I’m so, so sure~”

He growled, the rumble being felt through Connor’s entire being despite the fact they were no longer touching. The older man puffed up at the way Connor shuddered, clearly affected by the simplest of things that made Hank, Hank. If this sexy, drooling little android wasn’t the biggest ego booster.

He could spend the rest of the night wondering how they’d gotten here or how long his partner had been having these kind of feelings since he was so eager to jump into sex with him. Instead of all that, Hank wisely chose to save it for the time that came after he’d given his dick the best beating it’d received in its life. And he had no doubt that was what Connor was about to offer him.

He pushed in, just enough to test the waters of what Connor was ok with. Consent granted, but Hank just needed to make sure. 

When their eyes met, Connor nodded through blurry vision. Hank found what he was looking for and moved in.

His hips came forward slowly until inch by inch of his cock was sunk further inside of him, sheathing him to the hilt in a surprising display of endurance. Connor took him all, he took everything. Hank’s balls were soaking wet by the time he was fully seated.

 

“Oh my GOD. Oh holy FUCK, Con.”

“Hank~ pl-please move- OH~”

“You need more, baby boy?”

Connor shuddered violently. Hank wished his hands weren’t so busy supporting his weight against the mirror or he would hold him. Whisper sweet words in his ear that Connor had likely never heard ‘til he was creaming on his cock from that alone. He liked to be cooed at.

“That’s Alright, honey, I’m gonna give it to you.”

With that he pulled out until little else but his head was nestled firmly inside those slick, stretched folds. He pushed in, stabbing him back against the counter, legs spread, and catching every surface inside him at every angle. 

Hank was too thick to help but totally fill him.

Connor thrashed through the onslaught of sensations for only a minute as every rivet in his spine sent electric currents through him. 

Then he was pinned helplessly and forced to hold on for dear life.

Hank’s thrusts were brutal, his cock sinking deep to the point he was pushing globs of lube out of Connor’s cunt, pouring around him in gushes. It painted the swell of his ass and the counter below in the gooey substance. It stuck between his pert little cheeks and Hank’s pistoning hips in thick, glistening strings, making a sticking noise that was possibly more embarrassing than the squelch of Connor’s pussy. 

Hank pushed against every ring of muscle, every dip and rise in his walls with his heavy, brick sized dick over and over. He couldn’t help the sounds with all the excess of fluid he was producing and the shameful noises were just bound to happen.

Thankfully, Hank was more turned on than he’d ever been, and the extra sounds coming from their love session weren’t going to make his brain anything short of feral. The only thing Connor had to fear was Hank fucking him into a cream pie.

He groaned from somewhere low in his chest and pushed into Connor just as the sound reverberated through him, sending it through the smaller man’s chest. 

Connor was shocked. Shocked he could feel so good, shocked Hank could make a noise sexier than all of his perfect preconstructions. Shocked Hank was grabbing his hips and fucking him like it wasn’t their first time.

His eyes fell shut, body flushing with warmth in a way completely indescribable and entirely different than his orgasms alone. He’d never had this feeling with his hands or toys.

Then again he’d never reached *THAT* spot Hank was fucking open without mercy right now.

His silence was not unnoticed, despite Hank being damn near reduced to a lizard brain, and he drew back, stilling his hips.

“Connor?”

“Touch me~” was all he could manage, and despite the lack of context, Hank knew from the deepest part of his gut to do exactly as he was told.

He moved a finger to push at his clit, trapping it under his thumb and moving it languidly beneath. It twisted every little bit of sensitive nub in slow little circles to Hank’s will; sending Connor’s nerves screaming.

His eyes fell shut, unable to stay open a second longer, hips lifting just a touch off the counter so that the underside of Hank’s dick dragged full across the bottom part of his hole over and over- almost rubbing raw. 

Connor was trembling from every part of him, legs wobbling in their effort with chest heaving. 

Hank seemed to know what was coming, likely by the way his pussy tightened to dangerous intensity around the whole of his dick with absolutely no give. It practically punched the air from his lungs, but Hank found the last bit of strength to coax the orgasm out of him properly.

His younger self would be proud he still had it.

“That’s it sugar, right there.”

Connor whimpered, light whirling a solid red color. Hank nipped at it and realized shamefully he’d forgotten to give Connor his first kiss in all their lust.

His hips lifted a fraction more. The fluids between them were enough to mop the floor with.

“There you go, poor baby. That’s it.”

His cock hit something magical and Connor arched. Warm liquid slipping out between each thrust and spraying over Hank’s lower half. Connor’s ceaseless screaming earned him that first kiss, a disgracefully desperate one, as they were both full grown men, but effectively silenced some of his ear-splitting cries from making their way to the neighbor’s house.

Hank’s hips fucked him down through his orgasm. Thumb slowly coming to a stop over his unbearably sensitive clit only after Hank was sure he’d wrang his partner dry.

Connor writhed against him, arms never leaving the back of Hank’s neck where he'd been holding on for dearest life. 

Hank hadn’t even realized he’d finished in him until his dick was too soft to keep pushing.

The mess between them was unbelievable, as in something out of a porno where there was more than one guy spreading jizz everywhere. Connor’s squirting and natural lubrication had coated everything below the waist. Hank was practically just spreading the mess around with the towel by the time he’d gotten to using it on himself.

Good thing the shower was only a few feet away.

He took a moment to breathe in the sight before him-Connor slumped back over the bathroom counter with his legs spread wide and a well fucked cunny on display. His light had finally gone blue and he’d shoved a hand through his messy locks, and another under his pullover. He looked ready to go to sleep right there.

“Hey, you.” Hank put a hand over his shin and rubbed, gently coaxing for his attention.

The other answered meagerly with a small whine and heavy lashes; he could barely focus on him. Hank couldn’t blame him. The last time he’d been rammed into the surface of something, he slept through his finals.

“You, uhh. You doin’ ok?”

“Better than that.” A little smile spread his lips. Hank returned it, happy to hear that.

“Can I get you anything?”

“More of that, again.”

Hank quirked an eyebrow. He glad to see he was at least capable of joking so soon.

“How about a shower. You ruined my sink.”

“I promise to clean it.” Connor shuffled carefully down, legs wobbling the moment they landed on the floor. Hank steadied him until his stabilizers kicked in. He wondered vaguely if they had been here before when Hank was drunk as the scene felt familiar.

“Nah, forget it. Just don’t go getting anything else stuck up there and were even.”

“Anything except you, correct?”

Hank sputtered uselessly when Connor winked. He didn’t even feel bad for slapping him hard across the ass on his way to the shower. The yelp was a nice reward.


End file.
